


The Start of Something New

by RosevalleyNB



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Implied Relationships, Past Relationship(s), Post-Hogwarts, Pre-Epilogue, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 21:46:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20071081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosevalleyNB/pseuds/RosevalleyNB
Summary: “Would you care to dance, Miss Greengrass?” Draco asked because there wasn’t anything else he could think of to say to her. And as the question fell from his lips, he hoped she’d say no.“Fine, whatever,” Astoria eventually bit out after another painful-looking nudge from her mother.And that was the extent of their conversation that evening.***Their parents arranged their marriage. Neither Draco nor Astoria is too happy about it.





	The Start of Something New

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, the plot(holes) are.

“I won’t have my son defiling our name over a common whore!”

“Lucius!”

A short silence followed. Then, after a few seconds, something more subdued followed, but Draco -his features twisted with fury, couldn’t make out what his father was spewing. He stood in the shadows in the cold hallway. He had his ear and balled fist pressed against the thick oak door, listening to his parents’ voices. That vile and hateful word, _whore_, seemed to echo off the wood panelling around him and reverberate down to his very soul.

“He’s still a boy, Lucius,” Narcissa argued pleadingly. “After everything, he’s been through- _we_ put him through, you can’t expect this of him.”

“He’s not a child, Cissa,” said Lucius. “And this _is_ the right time. This would help us, and him, tremendously to clear our name even further.”

“He’s _is_ too young, just turned twenty. He struggles every day still, hardly sleeps at night, and you want to force him into marriage? With a stranger? At least with Pansy, he’s-”

“I won’t allow it,” Lucius said resolutely, cutting off his wife. “The girl was a passing fancy, nothing more, and the time has come to cut her loose. Cissa, think about it; the Parkinson’s hardly have two Sickles left to rub to together ever since Aloysius died and the Ministry seized their vaults in reparations. The girl works in a _pub_ in Knockturn Alley, doing who knows what for a few Galleons. It’s just a matter of time before he gets her up the duff. Would be a complete accident, of course. Not to mention, she tried to handover Potter to-”

“Are you sure that’s the argument you want to make?” It was Narcissa’s turn to interject. She sounded angry, as furious as the rage that thundered through Draco. He couldn’t quite decipher what his mother was saying, but he could guess. She had never backed down from pointing out her husband’s hypocrisy. Not for the first time, Draco thanked every deity he could think of that she was on his side. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to sway his father’s mind.

“Bleeding hell! Think for once, witch!” Lucius said harshly. “If we fail to act now, who knows what kind of damage he’ll do to our already frail reputation. The boy’s lost all reason Merlin gave him.”

“He’ll refuse,” said Narcissa heatedly. “If you think he’s lost all reason, just wait and see what he’ll do when you spring this on him.”

Lucius laughed mirthlessly. “You seem under the impression that he gets a say in this. Let me clear that up right this instant. I’m the head of this house, and he’ll do as I say. Besides, I’ve already talked to Bertrand, and he agrees with me. They’ll be married as soon as possible. We think sometime in August would be the best. The girl will be done with school by then, and it’ll give you womenfolk sufficient time to plan the wedding.”

“Lucius, you can’t be serious? That’s only a month away! People are going to think he’s got her in trouble. I shudder to think what that Skeeter woman will write about it.”

“Well, I for one would rather have people gossip over a respectable marriage than over our son’s involvement with a Knockturn Alley slag.”

***

Harsh rain pelted down on Draco in as he hurried down Knockturn Alley. When he finally reached his destination, the scent of stale beer and the thumping sounds of the newest Weird Sister’s song welcomed him. Draco hesitated for a moment, feeling selfish for burdening her again with his never-ending woes. But he needed her, he thought as he stared through the grimy window, searching for the familiar face he yearned to see so much.

As Draco had hoped, the pub was deserted so close to closing time. An unforgivingly bright light illuminated every inch. Stools and chairs were perched upside down on the bar and tables. He couldn’t help but smile when he laid eyes on her, Pansy. She was sweeping the floor whilst shaking her bum and singing along with the song. Her one arm was flailing whilst the other held on to broom for dear life as she sang into the handle, her face contorted to emphasise the dramatic melody.

“Silly bint,” Draco muttered affectionately. He could watch her for hours, her vivacity and determination to make the best the life the Gods had handed her were contagious, and he often found himself wishing that he had an ounce of the positivity she possessed. It would make his life so much bearable.

A thunderclap reminded Draco that he was standing outside in the middle of a storm. He gave the door a push and ad he stepped inside, making a mental note to tell her off later for forgetting to lock the door after the last customer. The door clicked closed behind him as the song reached its final tunes.

“I was wondering when you’d come in,” Pansy said, leaning on her broom. “You, sir, are an utter creep. That, or you’ve rediscovered your flair for the dramatics.”

“You knew I was there?” Draco laughed, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

“I’m a barmaid, sir,” said Pansy haughtily as she tapped just below her eye. “I see and hear everything.” She giggled along with him. “What are you doing here? I thought-”

Draco’s laughter died. The memory of the heated argument he had with his father occupied his mind again, pressed down hard on his shoulders. “I had to see you,” he said quietly.

Pansy’s smile faltered as she studied him. It was apparent that she wasn’t liking what she was seeing because she stood in front of him in a flash. “What’s wrong?” she asked urgently as she placed her hands on his cold, wet cheeks. “Draco, darling?”

Draco thought about proposing at that moment. He’d stay the night and drag her to the registrar’s office in the morning. That would show his father what he thought about their precious reputation. Still, the words that tumbled out were not even close to any of that.

“Father has found a suitable bride for me. I’m getting married in a few weeks.”

“What?” Pansy’s eyes widened in shock, and she took a step back. Draco tried to pull her into his arms, but she wasn’t having it and pushed his hands away. “If this is one of your jokes, it’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking,” Draco said ruefully as he finally got hold of her hand. “Father insists. He isn’t leaving me any choice, love. He says that he’ll disown me if I refuse. I wouldn’t care if it was just me, but he’s threatened divorce Mother, and- and…”

Draco heaved a heavy sigh as he rubbed his face in frustration. He tried hard to find right words to explain all the while wishing that she’d say something, do something. Hex him for all he cared because he deserved it for being a cowardice git. What he didn’t deserve, he told himself, was her kind touch on his cheek, forcing him to look at her. To his surprise and ever-growing guilt, Pansy merely smiled sadly. Her dark eyes shone brightly, the light reflected on the tears in her lashes.

“Was bound to happen sooner or later. I haven’t been under any delusions that you’d marry me. Not after… everything…” Pansy trailed off in a quivering voice as she hastily wiped off the tears that had rolled down her cheeks. She looked like she wanted to say so much more but eventually, after clearing her throat a few times, she lamely settled on, “We’ll figure something out, won’t we?”

“Of course,” Draco hurried to say, ignoring the little voice in the back of his mind that tried to get his attention.

Pansy nodded as she tried to keep her face straight, tears running down her cheeks in droves. “And you’ll still love me, won’t you?”

“Always.”

Pansy tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Still, she did not back away when he leant down to softly kiss her lips. As he tugged her into his embrace, she quietly said, “What more can I ask?”

***

“It isn’t the end of the world, Malfoy, cheer up,” Blaise said, roughly clapping Draco the shoulder. Maybe a bit too rough judging by the amount of amber liquid that spilt all over the table.

“It might as well be,” Draco replied dejectedly as he cleaned up the mess with a swish of his wand and poured himself another Firewhisky. “Life as I knew it comes to an end next month.”

Whilst Blaise raised his eyes to the ceiling, sighing heavily, Theo chortled and said, “You remind me of Father’s great-aunts. They used to moan that they were mere moments from death each time I was forced to visit them. Unfortunately, they’re still alive today, bless them, and I’m still listening to their whinging. It’s making my sodding ears bleed. And let me tell you mate, listening to those old birds is one thing, it’s not a becoming trait in a man your age.”

Draco scowled at him before turning back to the room. Across the hall, on the other side of the dancing couples, sat Astoria Greengrass. Her blonde hair was pulled back in an elaborate hairdo that that looked quite uncomfortable, just like the high-collared powder blue lace frock she was wearing. Although she was seated between her mother and sister Daphne, she appeared to be utterly aloof to her surroundings. Indeed, she seemed to be ignoring the entire ball in honour of her parents’ wedding anniversary. Or was she? Draco craned his neck to get a better look. No, little Astoria wasn’t completely shut off. She was, in fact, staring at her lap, however, if he wasn’t mistaken, she was mockingly mouthing the exchange between her sister and mother, her hands clenched in her lap.

“What am I supposed to talk to her about?” Draco asked quietly, not sure what to think of the girl. Maybe she was a few ingredient shorts of a potion, that would be a good reason to call of the wedding, wouldn’t it?

“Start by introducing yourself,” Blaise suggested.

“We have been introduced, remember?” Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, ignoring his father’s furious glares in his direction from the other side of the ballroom. He was painfully aware of the fact that everyone was watching him, waiting for him to approach Astoria, and it did nothing to settle his unease. He wasn’t ready to take that first step. If anything, he wanted to run far, far away and disappear for forever.

“No, when was that?” Theo said as he came to stand next to Draco. He was craning his neck to see the girl in question through the hordes of dancing moving bodies obscuring their view.

“Remember Daphne dragging her around our third year, trying to get us to befriend her?”

“No… Oh, wait! You mean that mousy Hufflepuff chit? That was Daphne’s sister?” Blaise said, frowning. “But mate, that was ages ago! You haven’t talked to her more recently than that?”

Draco crinkled his nose as he glanced at the youngest Greengrass girl again. “How am I supposed to do that? Rumour has it that she doesn’t speak. Mum says that she didn’t say a single word the entire time she had tea with her and Missus Greengrass last week.”

“I’m sure your mum was her usual warm self,” Blaise muttered into his glass.

Draco shoved his elbow into Blaise’s side but otherwise ignored his friend’s jibe at his mother. “I sure she’s capable of it, but… I don’t know.”

“Well, if she takes after Daphne, she’ll probably only speak when directly spoken to, like the good Pureblood daughter, especially when meeting her new mother-in-law. Shouldn’t bother you, since you like to hear the sound of your own voice.” Theo sniggered, ignoring Draco’s scowl.

“She’s pretty,” Blaise stated.

“Who, Daphne?”

“No... well, yes. I’d give my right arm to have her warm my bed. The quiet ones…” Blaise drifted off longingly. “But I was speaking of her sister. Astoria may not be the most beautiful witch I’ve seen, but she’s pretty enough.”

“She looks intolerable,” Theo said plainly.

“Says the bloke who daydreams about drowning in Millicent Bulstrode’s rack,” Blaise quipped, winking. “But our perverted friend is right. Young Miss Greengrass looks like a quite, eh, particular girl. It’s probably for the best if you just make something up as you go, I reckon.””

Draco heaved a heavy sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t delay it any longer. It was time to spend some time with his intended bride before his father dragged him down the dance floor by his ear. Running away and disappearing had to wait until another night.

As Draco made his way to Astoria, he realised he couldn’t remember anything about her that her parents had told him, good or bad. As he came closer, he concluded that aside from her serious expression, she was plainer than her sister and lacked curves in places he cared about. Begrudgingly, Draco had to admit, however, that her average looks and the fact she wasn’t Pansy were the worst things he could come up with.

It wasn’t until he was standing in front of her and her mother’s and sister conversation died down that Astoria broke out of her reverie. She started, her eyes widening with something akin to dread when she recognised him. The feeling was utterly mutual as far as Draco cared.

“Miss Greengrass.” Draco greeted her with a small bow.

“Mister Malfoy,” she acknowledged him softly after a nudge from her mother.

Draco was aware that Mrs Greengrass and Daphne were watching him and Astoria. The mother smiling encouragingly whilst Daphne’s lip curled up in disgust, which had been her standard greeting for him since their first encounter years ago. Astoria herself looked everywhere but at him, clearly hoping that he’d sod off already. Nothing about it helped feel him at ease.

“Would you care to dance, Miss Greengrass?” Draco asked because there wasn’t anything else he could think of to say to her. And as the question fell from his lips, he hoped she’d say no.

“Fine, whatever,” Astoria eventually bit out after another nudge from her mother.

And that was the extent of their conversation that evening.

***

Their courtship, if you could speak of one, was arranged by their parents. After the ball, they were put together in mostly public settings. Their conversations, stilted and always an afterthought was almost exclusively commentary. Draco complimented her robes, Astoria asked if he bleached his hair to get that unusual colour. The opera was terrific, the dinner tasteful, and the weather always so _bloody excellent _ for the time of the year.

Whenever Draco wasn’t pretending to court Astoria, he went to see Pansy as much as possible. Although the subject of his upcoming marriage wasn’t discussed openly, it was the Hippogriff in the room. It was evident in the way she held on to him, or the countless times he listened to her cry in the bathroom at night when she thought that he was sleeping. The dark circles underneath her eyes grew more significant, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had heard her laugh. As the days drew closer to his impending wedding, Draco realised that he needed to make a decision. If it wasn’t for him, he had to do it for Pansy’s sake.

***

It wasn’t until the week before the wedding that Draco found something aside from pleasantries to say to Astoria. As he walked next to her in her parents garden, their mothers a respectful distance behind them, he realised, quite belatedly, that he hardly made an attractive suitor for her, for anyone really.

“Why is your father eager to marry you off? With Daphne still single, I mean,” said Draco, wincing as the words tumbled out. Did he really want to know?

“Your father asked for Daphne first, but she refused. She has better prospects than you,” Astoria said matter-of-factly with a shrug of her shoulders.

Draco couldn’t help it, but that stung a bit. “And you don’t?” he asked when he was sure that he wouldn’t say something rude about Daphne.

“Nope, I’m not smart enough to go to uni like Daph and...” Astoria answered and immediately glanced over her shoulder at her mother. When she was convinced that the distance between them was acceptable, she said quietly, “And the boy I was supposed to marry died in the war. According to Mum and Dad, I’m quite unappealing to prospective husbands now. Tainted goods according to my Auntie Eunice. Well, I am since she told everyone and their uncle about Col- about him.”

“I don’t understand.” Draco frowned, not sure what to make of it.

Astoria glanced over her shoulder again and then whispered, “He was a Muggleborn, got himself killed in the battle. He went against orders and sneaked back into Hogwarts to fight when he should’ve stayed with me.”

They lapsed back into silence. Draco was lost for words as he watched her hastily wipe her cheeks from the corner of his eyes. He couldn’t think of a single thing to say or ask about this boy. In fact, the longer he thought about it, the more his insides began to churn in guilt and regrets. Compared to her late boyfriend, a sodding martyr apparently, he was hardly a catch, was he?

“Do you know why my father wants me to marry you?” Draco asked eventually to keep the conversation going.

Astoria scoffed. “Your father’s afraid that you’ll run off with some Knockturn Alley vault digger.”

“I’m a bit too old to _‘run off’ _,” Draco said irritably. “And don’t talk about her like that.”

“Why are you telling me that, tell old Lucy. I’m just repeating what I heard him tell my dad,” Astoria said dryly as she ripped a handful of flowers off a bush they passed. She glanced at him when he didn’t reply. “Well, go on, tell your dad. I dare you.”

To his great surprise, Draco noticed her smile. It wasn’t a happy smile but certainly amused.

“Well, yes, ah, maybe am not _that_ old, after all,” he eventually replied with a small smile of his own.

***

They married on a sweltering Saturday in August. Their wedding was practical and awkward; both bride and groom had looked as if they wanted to make a run for it. The simple handfasting ceremony was followed by an eight-course dinner in the festively decorated Malfoy gardens for their closest family and friends. And just the severity of their situation began to sink in, the wedding night followed suit.

They lay awake in the silent dark in the dowry house their parents had furnished for them. Draco felt ashamed and alone, frustrated by the bedclothes that clung to his skin. If he hadn’t seen Astoria slip into bed with him, he wouldn’t have known she was there. She was quiet and unmoving and so far removed from his side, Draco was sure that she had to be balancing on the edge of the mattress.

In an offer of mutual comfort, Draco reached across the seemingly vast distance between them and placed his hand over hers on her stomach. Astoria tensed at his touch, and after a moment she said in a small, teary voice,

“This is it, huh? This is our life now.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Draco bit his lip, mulling over what he wanted to say next. The strangled sob that escaped her helped him settle the issue. “It’s okay if you miss him tonight. I mean, I miss her. We can be miserable together if you’d like.”

He hadn’t expected the loud, albeit a bit teary, laughter Astoria let out. “You got yourself a deal, Malfoy. Misery does love company, doesn’t it?”

A flush of hope swept through Draco when Astoria linked her fingers with his. It was a simple gesture, but it was enough to diminish the shame and loneliness for now. And as they lay in the dark, he realised that he could grow to be fond of his newly minted Mrs Malfoy. Maybe someday they would be happy together.

***

Draco and Astoria developed a quiet familiarity akin to friendship in the weeks that followed their wedding. Despite the growth in their relationship, conversation was almost entirely restricted to surface topics and small gossip about their mutual acquaintances. It seemed to Draco that they recognised something deep inside each other, but they couldn’t find the means to crack the surface of polite formality.

The stress of living with a near-stranger was wearing on Draco. The fact that he hadn’t seen Pansy since he kissed her goodbye the week before his wedding wasn’t helping either. It was nearly October when it all became too much, and he finally cracked. He rationalised that as long as his intention was only to speak with Pansy, there wouldn’t be anything wrong with a quick visit. Still, he didn’t tell Astoria where he was going when he left the house that night.

As he hurried through Knockturn Alley, he blamed the drizzling rain for his clammy palms. However, he couldn’t quite easily dismiss the clenching in his chest. He was confident that as soon as he saw Pansy that he would feel better, but standing in front of the pub only made his uneasiness grow. He loved Pansy deeply, but he was acutely aware that his responsibility was to Astoria. He had said his vows and signed their marriage certificate. It felt wrong to be there.

Still, it didn’t stop him from entering the pub.

***

Pansy stared at him like he’d gone mad.

“You don’t love her,” she said incredulously. “You didn’t even want to marry her.”

Draco ran his fingers through his hair, heaving a heavy sigh. He’d kill for that bottle of Ogden’s Pansy was still holding. But the way things were going, she was more likely to smash the bottle over his head than pour him a drink. He wasn’t entirely sure where he had gone wrong or how he ended up at the receiving end of Pansy’s fiery temper. “But I did marry her. She’s my wife,” he tried to explain for the nth time. “I can’t... it’s infidelity. It’s... it’s…”

“It’s what, Draco?” Pansy asked harshly.

He looked at her pleadingly, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t make him say it.

“C’ mon you gormless git, spit it out already.”

Adding annoyance to his growing frustration, Draco glanced over his shoulder at the red-haired man sitting at the table by the window. It was a Weasley, one of the twins, which was bad enough. Pansy refusing to kick the ginger idiot out because he was a regular and a close _friend_ was even worse.

Since when did she have close male friends?

“Oh, shut up,” Draco growled and turned back to Pansy.

“George is right,” she bit out, “Say it.”

“George?” Draco asked, wondering when the two had become close enough to be one first name basis. The look on Pansy’s face, however, told him that it was not the time nor the subject at hand.

“It’s wrong, Pans. Would you really want to be a part of a questionable relationship? You think I would do that to you? Or to her?”

She laughed. It was a horrible, bitter noise that made Draco wince.

“Merlin’s bleeding balls, _Malfoy_, have you always been this full of yourself?” Pansy slammed the bottle she was holding on the bar, which made Draco jump back a little, and leant closer. “Did you honestly think that I’d settle for it, as your mistress? What do you think I am?”

Draco opened and closed his mouth, but no words came out. Regret started building inside him. He should’ve never come here, he should’ve turned on his heels and left when Pansy first asked him what the hell he was doing there.

“I- I…” he tried again as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You thought I’d be waiting for you,” she continued ferociously. “You thought that I’d be pining, a weeping mess for you. Sorry to disappoint you, you bastard, but that -,” Pansy trailed off. Her brow furrowed, and she let out a growl in anger. And then, quite suddenly she hit her palms against Draco’s chest, shoving him off the stool he was sitting on.

“Get out!”

“Pansy, love, it’s not-,” Draco tried to explain as he scrambled up to his legs but was drowned out by the string of rather colourful curse words Pansy flung at him. Draco eventually fled the pub when she picked up the bottle of Ogden’s and threw it at him with all her might. It shattered on the wall behind him, sending shards flying everywhere. In the back of his mind, he was aware of a stinging pain on his cheek, but it barely registered amongst his raging emotions.

When Draco burst out of the pub, he looked back one more time through the grimy window just in time to see the Weasley bloke wrap his arms around Pansy and pull her into a tight hug. He pushed back the raging jealousy at seeing them like that and left, muttering a quiet goodbye.

When he finally got home after hours of wandering the London streets in the pelting rain, he collapsed in a chair in the sitting room in front of the cold fireplace and stayed there for the rest of the night.

***

The morning light was barely touching the sky when Astoria came into the sitting room, still in her nightgown and housecoat. Her hair fell in a long plait over her shoulder, the end a frizzy and tangled mess. She had a deep crease on her cheek. Her arms were crossed tightly across her chest, and her posture was rigid.

Draco looked up, feeling too tired to actually say something to her.

Astoria chewed on her lips for a moment, took a deep breath and then spit out what she’d been clearly brooding on all night.

“I know you went to see Pansy last night and that came home very late. Look, I understand you have feelings for her, but you can’t... this isn’t what either of us planned, but this is our life now. A life you agreed to remember?” She started pacing up and down, her hands folded behind her back as she nervously kept on warbling. “We’re married now, so I feel that continuing to see her would be cheating. I hate cheaters. I understand that we’re in an unusual situation, and I know there’s little I can do if you decide to continue seeing her, but I think you should consider that we’re married. Bonded for life, I mean, we can’t undo it, not with all the ancient magic that was used. What I’m trying to say is that whatever you do now, with her, could affect our future relationship and everyday life. So, erm, perhaps you should... think about that. Right, yeah, I’m done now.”

Astoria went silent and stared at him, nibbling on her a thumb as she waited for a response. Soon, her nervous expression turned into one of worry.

“Why are you shaking?” she asked in concern. When Draco still didn’t answer, she crouched down in front of him and hesitantly touched his face.

“Oh my, you’re burning up. Up, up, let’s get you to bed.”

Draco let her pull him up and lead him into the bedroom, leaving him to change into fresh clothes. He crawled into bed with the buttons of his nightshirt undone, his cold fingers too clumsy to manage the little discs.

***

“I’ve seen toddlers act more maturely than you,” Astoria grumbled as she helped Draco sit up in bed so he could eat the soup she had prepared for him. “Are you always this intolerable when sick?”

“What a horrible thing to say to a sickly man. I’d be highly offended if I had the energy.”

“Cry me a river, Malfoy.” Astoria chuckled as she flopped down on her side of the bed and picked up her book from the nightstand. She read a few pages as Draco ate.

“I agree with you,” he said between bites.

“Agree with what?” Astoria asked absentmindedly.

“Cheating is unforgivable. But so you know, I haven’t.” Draco studied his spoon, frowning at a piece of unrecognisable something blue floating in his soup. Cooking certainly was not one of Astoria’s strong suites. “I just wanted to talk to her. I know that sounds like a weak excuse, but I had no intention of...you know. I respect the vows I made to you. It won’t happen again.”

She studied him for a moment through narrowed eyes, before nodding. “I believe you.” She turned her attention back to her book and was flipping a page when she casually said, “I wouldn’t finish that if I were you. Daphne helped me make it and since she doesn’t like you that much…”

***

“Are you feeling better?” Astoria asked as she got into bed that night.

“Yes. Still a bit cold, but that’ll pass quickly.”

“Good. Honestly, what were you thinking, sitting out there in wet clothes.”

“I wasn’t apparently.”

“You should take better care of yourself. Colin nearly died of fever once, and I never knew him to get sick before that,” Astoria warned quietly.

Feeling the need to comfort her as she had comforted and cared for him, Draco reached over and took her hand. “Was he your fiancé?” he asked gently.

“We were never actually engaged. Colin and I became vast friends on the Hogwarts Express my first year. We started dating somewhere at the start of my third year. He used to talk about travelling the world to photograph unexplored spots after finishing school, and I agreed to come along. Since my parents would never allow me to go off with a bloke that wasn’t my betrothed or husband, and they’d never allow me to marry a Muggleborn, we decided that we’d elope as soon as I finished school. Then the war happened, and he went into hiding, and the battle he shouldn’t have been fighting…”

Draco felt his throat clench as Astoria trailed off and began sniffling. All he could do was reach out and hold her hand. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

It took a while before the worst of her sobs died down. “I found it almost impossible to imagine moving forward,” she continued hoarsely. “I thought about travelling, for Colin’s sake, but… Then the offer from your father came, and here I am.” She paused for a moment, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think this life will make for a bad alternative.”

“I think we can be happy,” Draco said after a long silence, squeezing her hand.

“Yeah, we probably can,” Astoria said softly.

Draco smiled and asked, “Were you this odd as well back then?”

Astoria snorted haughtily. “I’m not odd, you just don’t get my sense of humour. But that’s okay, we’ll blame your stiff upbringing for your lack of wit.”

“You’re a strange woman, Astoria.”

“Thank you, that’s nice of you to say,” she responded with a small laugh.

In the silence that followed, Astoria seemed perturbed. “Did you want to marry her?” she asked eventually.

Draco looks down at their joined hands as he collected his thoughts. Why hadn’t he married Pansy; they had ample opportunities to do so, after all. “I thought about it. I almost asked her many times, but I never actually did. I would’ve had to give up everything that comprises my life now, and I wasn’t ready to give it all up. I’m not sure I ever would’ve been. I’m still not sure why.”

Astoria raised her free hand and tenderly touched the cut on his cheek. “Maybe some things just aren’t meant to be,” she said.

Draco lifted the hand he was holding and held it against his chest, pulling her closer in the process. As he looked into her eyes, he felt a growing closeness to her. But instead of pulling away, as half of him wanted to, he kissed her forehead and believed for the first time that he could come to love her.

* * *

**Fin**


End file.
